


The Pros and Cons of Affronting a Witch

by hexthejinx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, Stiles and Cora are bros, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexthejinx/pseuds/hexthejinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can't keep his mouth shut and offends a witch. He's rewarded with an embarrassing body modification. Derek may or may not be fascinated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pros and Cons of Affronting a Witch

He’s going to die any minute. Okay, Derek has said that it’s not possible to die from embarrassment, but he doesn’t know shit. Stiles is sure the alpha has never felt as mortified as he feels now.

Something brushes against his head and he squeaks, pulling the hood further down his head. “No!” he protests vehemently, burying his face into the cushions. 

“Oh, come on!” Cora tries to pry the fabric out of Stiles’ fingers, though without any success. Luckily she’s a decent enough person not to use werewolf strength against him. “I want to see!”

“You’ve seen it already! Stop making fun of me!”

“I don’t. I think they’re cute.”

“Deeeereeeek,” Stiles whines, sounding pitiful even to his own ears. “Tell your sister to leave me alone.”

“Tell Stiles to stop being such a pussy,” Cora retorts, then realizes what she’s just said and bursts out laughing. 

Stiles wants to punch her, but that would require letting go of the hood and that’s not an option. “I hate you,” he says instead with as much venom as he can muster, though it gets muffled by the cushion.

“You’re both giving me headache,” Derek grumbles from the other side of the room. “Cora, go upstairs.”

“Really, big brother? Sending me to my room? I’m a little too old for that.”

“You’re not helping in any way.”

“Very well. Don’t ask me to go with you the next time you want to investigate some ‘strange disturbance in the woods’.” Cora stomps when she ascends the staircase and then it’s quiet in the loft. 

After a while Stiles hears Derek approach the couch he is occupying. “Scoot over”. He worms backwards, making some room for the other man to sit. It turns out not to be the best idea because Derek’s thigh is now at the level with Stiles’ eyes and it’s at least distracting. He turns his head to the side, settling his gaze on the dusty floor instead. 

He doesn’t manage to stay quiet for a long. “Why these things always happen to me,” he groans.

“Maybe because you have a big mouth,” Derek answers calmly, scanning the pages of the book he has in his lap. 

“Or maybe because that witch couldn’t handle some words of truth, with an ounce of sarcasm.”

“Exactly what I’m talking about.”

Stiles squints at Derek from under the rim of his hood. “I’m not sure if you are on my side right now or not.”

“Of course I am,” the werewolf assures him, but there’s an amused gleam in his eyes when he says it. 

Stiles huffs and pillows his head on his folded arms. “I can’t believe you don’t have a laptop and working Internet connection in here. Do you even know it’s the 21st century? I would at least be able to look for some solution to this fucked up situation.”

“You’re always welcome to crash at Peter’s. I’ve heard he’s quite fond of this tech stuff.”

Stiles utters a sound like a rubber toy somebody stepped on, which makes Derek snort. “I’ll take that as a no. Anyway, I don’t think you could find stuff like that on the Internet. Magic is the ancient knowledge and witches are very secretive and protective of their lore. Somehow I don’t see them uploading everything on the web. All you would come across would be some wiccan trash.”

Stiles doesn’t even bother to confirm that. He tries to set his mind on something else, but it proves to be difficult, not only because the matter at hand is hard to ignore.

“Jesus! Why it has to be so hot in here?”

“It’s not.”

“It totally is. And you’re not helping, dude. You’re radiating heat like a little furnace, right in my face.”

Derek sighs. “Sit properly, then. Also, here’s a crazy idea: take off your hoodie.”

“No way.”

“Cora’s not here. And I’m not going to mock you.”

Stiles eyes the other man suspiciously, then slowly strips the hoodie off. He lies back down on his stomach, the hoodie sliding off on the floor. He doesn’t feel any less hot, though that’s probably more because of his flushed cheeks. 

Derek keeps browsing through the book. The monotonous rustle of paper is somewhat sleep-inducing and despite his agitation, Stiles feels his eyelids are dropping down. A light touch makes him yelp and tumble to the floor in uncoordinated heap. 

“Dude!” he sputters, indignation and bewilderment making his voice raise an octave.

Derek has the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. But they look so… fluffy, I guess? I wanted to feel them.”

Stiles groans and gets to his feet, trying to regain at least some sad scraps of his long-lost dignity. He crosses the living room and walks into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. There’s a small mirror hanging on the wall above the sink. Stiles uses it to regard his appearance. It’s less shocking then the first time he did it but he still feels quite spooked looking at a pair of furry brown ears sticking from the top of his head. They are a couple of shades lighter than his hair, with darker tips. He touches one ear tentatively with a tip of his finger. It tickles, and the ear twitches. It’s one of the most bizarre sensations Stiles has felt in his relatively short life. Also, Derek was right. The ears _are_ really fluffy and soft to touch. Just his life, ladies and gentlemen.

“Shit,” he mumbles, looking at the ears. “I look like Ritsuka. From all the…” His eyes widen suddenly. “ _Oh my God_. What if it’s just like that?”

“You look like who?” Derek asks from the couch. “And it’s like what?”

“You may be right.” Cora is leaning over the railing. Of course she’s been eavesdropping. “I think you need to lose your ears, Stiles.” She’s positively _leering_ and Stiles is once more reminded that she’s not only Derek’s relative, but also Peter’s.

“Of course he needs to lose them. And we’re here to help,” Derek says, oblivious to the implication. Cora laughs so hard she almost falls off the staircase. Stiles’ face is practically on fire. 

Derek looks between them and shakes his head, irritated. “Either you tell me what’s so funny or make yourself actually useful.”

Cora is still chuckling as she comes down the stairs and takes Stiles’ elbow. “Come on. Let’s do something about those.” She strokes her finger along one of the ears. This time Stiles punches her in the shoulder.

_____

They work together, sharing the books Derek has on magic, spells and witches between the three of them. It’s different from the usual way Stiles operates, but not as tedious as he thought it would be. Still, it’s getting close to dawn and they’re not even close to finding an acceptable solution.

Cora closes the last book with a thump and throws it carelessly on the table with so much force it almost falls on the floor. The dark glare Derek shoots at her is promptly ignored. “I think there’s no other way than wait for the spell to wear out. It says so about all the punishment spells for minor offences.”

“Yeah, but for how long? I can’t go back home like this! What I’m going to say to my father? He thinks I’m having a sleepover at Scott’s right now but I can’t hide here forever. And there’s school tomorrow, fuck.” Out of habit, Stiles tries to tug at his hair in frustration but he ends up tugging on the ear instead. He winces in pain and tucks his face against his knees, feeling defeated.

“Well, I don’t know about it, but we’ve been up all night and I’m exhausted.” Cora gets up and stretches, her joints cracking loudly after being forced into one position for so long. “Night, boys. If I can say so.” She squints at the first rays of sun shining through the window and goes upstairs.

“She’s right, Stiles. Make up some excuse to your dad so you can stay here for today, and if nothing changes until the evening, we’ll go to Deaton.” Derek doesn’t look happy about the prospect and Stiles can relate; as much as Deaton helped them in the past, he still thinks the veterinarian is fishy and he seeks his advice only when there’s nothing else he can do. 

“Okay,” he agrees with a deep sigh. The chair he’s been sitting on for the whole time is not the most comfortable one and his back protests when he tries to straighten up. “Jeez. It’s high time for you to buy armchairs, dude, especially since you’re getting some people over now, at least from time to time.” He snorts at Derek’s pained expression. “Don’t look so pleased, your face might split from all this smiling. Okay, just bring me some blankets and I’m all set.”

Derek looks at him quizzically. Stiles waves his arms around. “Come on, Derek. Just because you have your own internal central heating, doesn’t mean others have it too. Weak human here, I need some covers if I’m going to sleep in your chilly living room for a few hours.”

Derek shakes his head slowly. “You’re not weak. Besides, I’m going to take the couch. You can sleep in my room.”

“What? No, it’s alright, I-”

“Contrary to popular opinion, my mother raised me well. Take the bed.”

Stiles blinks and tries to cover his surprise. Derek almost never mentions his parents, certainly not so casually. He wonders briefly if it means that Derek is finally coming to terms with his loss, or maybe it’s something else. “But...” he tries feebly, “wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, for you?”

“It’s only weird if you make it this way. Stop arguing and just go lie in my bed.”

“Bossy,” Stiles teases, winking and faking an exaggerated shiver, but he walks up the stairs without any further comment.

_____

Stiles assumed that the spell would wear itself over during the time he’ll be asleep. When he wakes up in the late afternoon, one touch to his head dispels all the hope. The ears are still there, solid and very much real. Feeling discouraged, he checks his cell phone. There’s a text from Scott from a few hours ago, asking if they had any luck dealing with Stiles’ ‘furry problem’. Stiles calls him back and spends the next fifteen minutes complaining about his life and stupid witches. Scott, bless him, listens to him patiently, humming his agreement in all the right places and calling the witch a stupid bitch. He laughs when Stiles grumbles that with a bunch of werewolves in his life he has enough of ‘furry problems, don’t need another one, thank you very much’. Talking to his best friend make him feel considerably better about the whole situation. They both snort when Stiles’ stomach rumbles loudly.

“Go plunder Derek’s fridge, buddy. And go to Deaton later, he might be able to help.”

After saying goodbye to Scott, Stiles texts his father, telling him some cover-up story he has agreed on with Scott before. He hates that he has to lie to his father _again_ but the alternative is much worse, all things considered. 

He goes downstairs and after spending a moment in the bathroom he steps in Derek’s ridiculously small kitchen. The alpha is there, fussing with the coffee maker. He nods at Stiles shortly but since his greetings rarely consist of more, Stiles isn’t concerned. 

“Making coffee? Awesome, I want one too. Do you have cereal? You should, Cora said she likes it too.”

Derek points to the right cupboard and Stiles fixes himself a bowl. There’s no table or even a stool so he sits on the windowsill and starts eating. Meanwhile Derek gets two mugs of coffee ready. He doesn’t speak, but Stiles chalks it up to morning grogginess. After all, it’s not like the werewolf is talkative even when he is wide awake and full of energy.

Soon enough, the carefree atmosphere seem to change. Stiles tries to focus on eating, sweeping his gaze over the small room so he doesn’t have to look at Derek, but he keeps getting distracted. No matter how much he tries, he can’t ignore Derek, who’s leaning against the counter, mug held in both hands, his eyes practically _glued_ to Stiles. After a while, the boy loses his patience. 

“Oh my God, fine! Do it! You’re driving me crazy with this staring.”

Derek blinks rapidly, as he’s been deep inside his mind for the whole time and Stiles’ voice has just brought him back. “What?”

“I know what you’re thinking about, Derek, you’re practically transparent.”

“Sorry,” Derek mumbles into his coffee. “I can’t help it.”

“Stop apologizing and just do it.”

The alpha looks unsure. “Really, can I? I mean...”

Stiles sighs and puckers up his lips. “Yeah. It’s not like I’m thrilled about that, but I don’t think I get any peace until I let you, so...” He makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Let’s get it over with.”

Derek puts the mug on the counter and approaches Stiles slowly. He reaches out with his arm, making Stiles stiff and clutch the bowl in his lap. That causes the alpha to stop mid-motion, but Stiles nods tightly, so Derek moves all the way until his hand touches between the ears. At first he just runs the tip of his finger over the shell of one ear, so softly Stiles almost doesn’t feel it, but when there’s no flinching away, Derek gets bolder. He starts stroking, alternating between both ears, with oddly fascinated expression on his face. 

The first touch tickles, but after that it’s really... nice. Hell, let’s be honest, much more than just nice. Stiles’ eyes slip shut as he unconsciously tips his head sideways. Somewhere deep inside him he knows they shouldn’t do this, that it’ll be so awkward later, but it feels so good he can’t bring himself to care. As long as he doesn’t start purring, they should be okay.

Cora appears out of nowhere. Maybe she used the Hales creepy powers to sneak up on them, or maybe she came in as loudly as usual, only he and Derek were so entranced none of them have heard her. All Stiles knows is that when at some point he manages to open his eyes, he sees her over Derek’s shoulder, standing in the doorway and grinning widely. He jerks violently, trying to move away from Derek’s reach and jostles the bowl in his lap in the process, the milk pouring over the rim and splattering all over the tiles. 

Cora raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Kitty spilled the milk?” Stiles throws a spoon at her but she catches it effortlessly. Damn werewolves. 

“Let’s go to Deaton, okay?” Stiles mumbles, sliding from the windowsill and heading to the living room where he has left his shoes. His face is beet-red and he wonders for a second if Derek’s looks similar but he doesn’t turn around to check. Stiles so doesn’t want to look him in the face right now.

_____

Deaton looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, although he remains professional and contained. Stiles still hates him. He flinches away when the veterinarian touches the ears tentatively and hums quietly to himself.

“Okay,” says Deaton, glancing at the three of them. “How about you tell me how it happened?”

“We told you, it was a witch,” Derek answers from where he stands with his back to the wall, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

Deaton gives him a pointed look. “You have to be more precise. Also, starting from the very beginning would be nice.”

“Derek called me yesterday afternoon, saying he sensed someone trespassing on our territory when he was in the woods. Someone supernatural. Wanted for me to come and help him check it out,” Cora says.

“And how Mr Stilinski ended up with you?”

“Cora was hanging around at my house, we played some games.” Stiles decides to take the storytelling upon himself. “When Derek called I insisted on going with them, thought it can be interesting. We were walking around the forest and then the witch appeared. Bitch apparently decided my looks are not complete, did some hocus-pocus and here I am.” He lets out an irritated huff.

“What, she just appeared and put a spell on you out of nowhere?” Deaton looks dubious. 

“I told her to get out of my territory, which turned into a quite heated discussion, as she wasn’t willing,” Derek grumbles, but it’s hard to say if he’s offended by the witch refusal to cooperate or simply not feeling comfortable in the veterinarian’s presence. “I was the only one who was supposed to do the talking but _of course_ , Stiles had to step in with a few comments of his own, and none of them were particularly polite. No wonder she felt offended.”

“Dude!” Stiles bristles, indignant. “At least show some gratitude. She called you a ridiculous excuse for an alpha werewolf, was I supposed to keep my mouth shut?”

“Yes Stiles, you were supposed to keep your mouth shut. I’m capable of standing up for myself. I don’t need a spokesman.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” Stiles is furious now. Only Derek can bring him to this state with just a couple of well aimed statements. Cora giggles and shakes her head fondly. Stiles glares at her, which only makes her giggle harder.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” she says, eyes shining with mirth. “But your ears actually pull down and back when you’re angry, it’s hilarious.”

Before Stiles manages to come back with a snarky comeback, Deaton clears his throat. “Maybe let’s go back to the matter at hand. Did you try to apologize?”

“No.” Stiles slowly turns his head towards the doctor, but not before he gives Cora a look that means he’s going to get his revenge later. “Didn’t have a chance anyway. She disappeared in a puff of smoke, like, literally. Who even does that? Way to be melodramatic. I wonder if-”

“Maybe you should now,” Deaton interrupts him quickly.

“What?”

“Apologize.”

“To whom, to the air? To that wall?”

“To the witch. If she used a spell I’m thinking about she’ll be able to hear it, wherever she is.”

Stiles looks doubtful, but after a moment he decides to go with it. Whatever, it’s not like there’s any harm in trying, and every suggestions of what may help him to get rid of the ears are appreciated. “Um... I’m sorry, oh mighty witch?”

He doesn’t have to touch his head, he can see from everyone’s expressions that it hasn’t worked.

“Yeah, I though so.” He slumps in his seat and pulls at his hair, frustration evident.

Deaton shakes his head, mouth twisting in discontent. “That didn’t sound honest. Put your heart into it, you have to mean it.”

Stiles still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not like they have any better idea at this moment. He closes his eyes and keeps quiet for a while, searching for sincere remorse deep inside himself. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told what I did, none of it was actually true.” On a hunch, he adds hastily. “I promise not to speak bad about you anymore.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Stiles hears a small gasp from Cora. He opens his eyes, taking in everyone’s stunned faces and moves his arm up hurriedly. He manages to smack himself in the process, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The ears are gone.

“Yes!” he shouts, jumping off the bench he’s been sitting on, fist bumping the air. “Yes! Suck it, y-”

A large hand clasps over his mouth. “Stiles,” Derek says, suddenly standing very close. “Watch it. I’m not sure you’d end with just cat ears this time.” He waits for Stiles to nod before taking his hand away.

“Um, yeah.” Stiles feels his face going red again, though he doesn’t have an idea why. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

_____

A week later Stiles is sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts twirling in his mind restlessly as usual when somebody jumps through the open window, landing with a heavy thump. It says something about Stiles’ life when he doesn’t even flinch.

“Want something specific or just came to taunt me?” he asks, barely lifting his head from the pillow.

Derek sits on Stiles’ desk chair, stretching his long legs in front of him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Cora explained that reference you made the other day. About that Ritsuka guy.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles moans and covers his eyes with his palm.

“We watched the anime, too.”

“I really wish you didn’t.”

“Why? It wasn’t that bad. When she was in elementary school she made me and Laura watch Sailor Moon. Every single episode.” He frowns with disdain.

Stiles snickers and risks a look at Derek. “It’s a tough job to be the older brother, isn’t it?”

Derek smirks at him. “It’s funny that you know what Sailor Moon is. It’s not like you have a younger sister.” He’s definitely making fun of Stiles right now.

“Hey! No need to jump to assumptions. I hung out with girls as much as with boys as a kid. Call it collateral damage.” And if he had a slight crush on Tuxedo, then well... nobody needs to know.

“Sure.” Derek keeps smiling at him and it’s a bit unsettling. Not that he minds Derek’s smile, only... the guy rarely do that. It’s weird and it’s getting under Stiles’ skin.

He sits up on the bed, fiddles with the cover just to have something to do with his hands. “Soo... You’re here just to chat about animes?” 

“No.” Derek straightens up as well, eyes boring into Stiles. “I wanted to say that if Deaton’s idea didn’t work, I wouldn’t mind to try out Cora’s suggestion.”

This time Stiles can’t hold off his blush. He tries not to think about how unattractive he must look now, cheeks burning and with no doubt bright red. He doesn’t know what to do with the information so he decides to play dumb, buying himself a little time to come up with some light, dismissive remark. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” This time Derek gets up and approaches the bed, eyes still settled on the boy. The mattress deeps when he kneels on it, dangerously close to Stiles’ folded legs. Stiles has a ridiculous urge to move back He probably would, if not for a wall behind his back. Derek reaches out and puts his hand on Stiles’ head. 

“What...” Stiles mumbles, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I kind of miss them,” Derek says quietly. “I mean, you _did_ look kind of silly and you obviously didn’t like them, but...” He doesn’t elaborate further but his fingers move, stroking Stiles’ hair.

“Dude!”

Derek flinches suddenly and retreats his hand. “Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t... Maybe I should...” He makes a move as to get up, but he only manages to swing his legs down on the carpet. Stiles catches his arm quickly, keeping the werewolf in place. He doesn’t know what to do afterwards, eyes darting nervously between Derek and the comforter. He doesn’t want Derek to go, that’s what he’s sure about, but what does he want from him? He has no idea. 

_Oh, come on_ , he admonishes himself. _Man up Stilinski, it’s not a rocket science._

“I like it,” he blurts out stupidly. Derek glances at him quizzically so he attempts to clarify. “When you touch it. My hair. Me. Whatever.” Smooth Stiles, really smooth.

“Yeah?” Derek asks and Stiles nods, still feeling awkward. Derek’s hand slides up his thigh and Stiles’ breath hitches. “Like that?” He nods again, uncharacteristically speechless.

Derek’s smile returns, a little predatory this time, but Stiles is not afraid, even if he’s suppose to be. The alpha leans forward, the other hand coming up to cradle Stiles’ cheek. The boy sighs when their lips meet, mouth parting slightly, and closes his eyes. He tilts his head to the side, inching closer on the bed and deepening the kiss. His arms circle Derek’s waist at the same time as the werewolf nips softly at Stiles’ lower lip. He lets out a startled noise, which may qualify as squeak, but whatever, he’ll worry about it later. Right now, there are lips on his own, warm body beneath his palms, a tongue sliding in his mouth, and _yes, please_.

Stiles has no idea how much time passes but somewhere along the way he moved to straddle Derek’s lap, his fingers twisted in the werewolf’s hair, Derek’s hands sitting low on his hips, thumbs sneaking underneath his t-shirt. Derek’s jacket lies forgotten on the floor and Stiles can’t remember who took it off the alpha’s shoulders. He rolls his hips down experimentally, gasping when Derek responds with the same.

“Oh my God,” he groans, pulling away and trying to focus on Derek’s face. His dark hair is tousled, lips swollen, gaze intent and the sight is one of the most mesmerizing Stiles has ever seen. _I’m the cause of this_ , he thinks and the thought is mind-boggling. “Uhm... About that offer,” he starts, breaking off when Derek dips his head to nuzzle at Stiles’ neck, teeth dragging against his collarbone.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, Jesus. Uhm, yeah. Does... does it still stand?”

Derek abandons mouthing against Stiles’ skin in favor of looking at him. “Which one?”

“About my ears? I still need to lose them, you know.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, trying to convey ‘if you know what I mean’ with them. 

Derek rolls his eyes, but he smiles lazily at the same time and Stiles can’t tear his gaze away. “Sure. Now?”

“Uhm... I... Maybe? I mean...” Stiles wants to smack himself, or maybe Derek, for turning him into a babbling mess with no more than his large hands and hot kisses. 

“One step at the time,” Derek says and he pushes Stiles off his legs until he lies back on the bed. Derek follows immediately, fitting himself between Stiles thighs, arms settling along the boy’s sides. “It’s not like I’m going away any time soon.”

“Oh, good. Great,” Stiles chokes out and the rest of his thought process is disrupted by Derek’s mouth latching on Stiles’ neck again, tongue touching the skin. Derek sucks on the spot vigorously and Stiles knows that there will be a hickey the next morning, probably no way to cover it. The fact alone makes him moan and arch into Derek’s body, his crotch rubbing against Derek’s hip.

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, eyes rolling back in his head. “I fucking love witches.”

Derek tucks his head against Stiles shoulder and shakes with a soundless laugher until Stiles grabs his hair and pulls him up for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> The anime I keep shamelessly pimping out for the whole time is "Loveless." In that universe all people have cat ears and little tails which disappear when they have sex for the first time. Hence, losing one's ears is an euphemism for losing one's virginity.  
> I recommend watching the anime if you can, it's really beautiful and desperately needs a second season.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://hexthejinx.tumblr.com)!


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